


Dance with Me?

by scruffandyarn



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dancing, F/M, Fluff, M/M, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-13
Updated: 2015-04-13
Packaged: 2018-03-22 15:31:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3734068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scruffandyarn/pseuds/scruffandyarn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based off a request sent in to angelsxreader.tumblr.com asking for Lucifer giving the reader dancing lessons.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dance with Me?

A chuckle echoed through the tiny room.

You scowled before stomping over to your stereo and turning off the music.  “Don’t make fun of me, you jackass.”

“I can’t help it, ______,” Lucifer began.  You looked over to see him leaning against the door frame of your bedroom, eyeing you.  “Your footwork needs a lot of practice, my dear.”

“And I suppose you could do it better?”

“You’d be right.”  He straightened before sauntering up to you.  “And you might even be able to persuade me to teach you.”

“No thanks.  I’m not really interested in trading my soul for a fiddle or a tango lesson.”

It was his turn to scowl.  “First of all, Charlie Daniels can suck it.”  His expression made you laugh.  “Second, I’m not looking for your soul.  Just looking for someone to accompany me to the movies.”

“What?”  You cocked your head to the side.  “Is Satan really asking me on a date?”

He rolled his eyes.  “It’s not a date.  It is merely an exchange.  You get dancing lessons so you don’t look like an utter buffoon at your cousin’s wedding, and I get a few hours where I’m not completely bored out of my mind.”

“So, you find me interesting?”  You felt the corner of your mouth begin to lift.

“If you’re going to be difficult about this, ______, I recant my offer.  Have fun looking like a fool at the wedding.”

Shit!  “Wait!”  Thankfully, he hadn’t disappeared.  “Fine.  You teach me how to dance and I will try not to bore you.  OK?”

“Deal.”

Oh fuck.  You’d just made a deal with the devil.  And that easy smirk that slid on his face told you that you were so screwed.

 

“Why the fuck can’t I get my feet to work right?”  You shut the stereo off with more force than necessary.

Lucifer shook his head.  “Because you keep trying to take the lead.  If I’m instructing you, you have to let me lead.”

You were only ten minutes into your third dance lesson and already you were beyond frustrated.  It was like you’d forgotten everything he’d already tried to teach you.  If you weren’t stepping on his feet, he was stepping on yours because of your ill-placed footwork.

“This is dumb,” you growled.

“Dancing?”

“Yes!”

He rolled his eyes.  “Dancing is not stupid.  Dancing is expression.  Dancing is art.  It’s one of the few things on this measly planet Father gave you that I can tolerate.  It is not dancing that is dumb.”

“So you’re saying I’m dumb.”  You stepped back and folded your arms across your chest, leveling your best glare at him.

“I’m saying you’re impatient and petulant and have very little sense of rhythm.”

You took a deep breath, trying not to get too angry with the devil.  “Why can’t you just snap your fingers and give me the ability to dance?”

“I don’t make deals for souls.  That’s Crowley’s thing.”  He said the demon’s name with such distaste that it made you pause.

“But you’re an angel!  You can just will me the ability to dance and I’ll be able to dance circles around Fred Astaire!”  Were you whining?

“If you want to dance circles around that hack, you’d have to do it in hell.”

“What?”

“How do you think a balding, goofy-looking guy could land movies with Ginger Rogers?”  Lucifer sighed.  “Crowley made sure his spot in Hell consisted of demons constantly breaking his ankles.”

“Oh.”  You weren’t sure you wanted to do this anymore.

“Does that bother you?”

You nodded.  “It’s just…sometimes I forget what really goes on in Hell.”  You studied his features.  As irritating as he could be, Lucifer had somehow wormed his way into your heart.  To be reminded of his past was more than a little…disconcerting.

“______,” his tone was somber, as if he was saddened by the distrust he saw in your eyes.  “Dance with me?”

You bit your lip, contemplating.  You weren’t really comfortable anymore with the idea of dancing with the Prince of Darkness.  Feeling his arms around you would make you forget just who he was and all he’d done.  And friend or not, you weren’t sure you could afford to forget.

With a frown, Lucifer nodded and was gone before you could answer.

 

“How are you doing, ______?”

You looked up to see your cousin standing over you, a concerned expression on her face.  The worried frown looked out of place, as this was supposed to be the happiest day of her life, or however the expression went.  

“I’m alright.  A little tired, but I’m good.  How are you?”

“I’m great.  Everyone is having a good time.  Except you.”  She, very ungracefully, plopped down in the seat next to you.  “I keep seeing people asking you to dance and every one of them gets turned away.  Now, why is my favorite cousin looking so depressed?”

“I’m not depressed.” You sighed. “I just don’t dance.”  And even if you did, you certainly didn’t want to.  Every time someone had come up and asked you to dance, all you could see was Lucifer’s sad look just before he’d disappeared on you.  You hadn’t seen him since then, and you could admit, at least to yourself, you missed him.

“But you told me you were going to learn!”

“I was supposed to learn from a friend of mine.  He was going to teach me, but…” you shrugged.  “It didn’t work out.”

“Oh, ______…he broke your heart, didn’t he?” Now she looked angry.  So not your intention.

“More like I had a hard time looking past, well, his past.”

“Everybody has a past, ______.  Unless he was some kind of serial killer or something, there’s not much a person can’t move beyond.”

You snorted.  

“Honey,” your aunt approached you.  “Are you expecting someone to meet you here?  I know you RSVP’d for one, but he’s insistent that he’s supposed to be here.”

You glanced over at the room’s entrance to see Lucifer standing, dressed in a suit, his hands shoved in his jacket pockets, smiling sheepishly at you.

“Jesus Christ.”  You had to fight to keep from laughing at your cousin’s outburst.  “Is that him?  The guy you were telling me about?  He’s gorgeous.”

“Yeah, that’s him.  You just run along now to your spouse while I go see why he’s here.”  You walked over to where Lucifer still stood.  

“Hey.”

“What are you doing here?”

“I can’t change what happened.”

You cocked an eyebrow.  “What?”

“Any of it–the apple, the snake, the cage–I can’t change any of it.  But maybe I can make here and now a little better.”

“And how are you going to do that?”

“Dance with me?” He looked hopeful.

“Luci–uh…yeah…I can’t dance.  You never got around to teaching me.”

“I’ve got a plan to get around that.”  He nodded down at your feet.  “Take off your shoes.”

“What?”

“Trust me?”

Sighing, you kicked your shoes off and left them near the doors.  Lucifer took your hand and led you out to the middle of the dance floor.  “Now what?”

“Stand on my feet.”

“What?  No–that’s dumb.”  You tried to turn back to collect your shoes, but he pulled you towards him.

“Trust me.”

You’d trusted him enough to let him lead you out here, you figured you might as well go all the way.  Scowling, you placed your feet on his and he wrapped his arms around you, just in time for the band to start a livelier number than they’d just been playing.  “Shit, Lucifer, this isn’t going to work,” you hissed.

“I’m not going to let you fall.”

Drawing in a deep breath, you nodded, and wrapped your arms around his neck.  Then he began to glide across the dance floor.  You felt like you were floating.  “Oh my god.”

“I’m not my Father, ______,” he chided gently.  

“I know, just–we’re dancing!”  You couldn’t help the grin that was on your face.

“I know.” He returned your smile.

 

You were on your third dance of the evening, a slow song, this time, when a thought crossed your mind.  

“What made you decide to show up?”

“I got bored.”

You felt your eyebrow shoot up of it’s own volition.

“That movie–I went to see it.  It was so lame.  I kept waiting for you to make some ridiculous comment or throw popcorn at the screen, but you weren’t there.”

“You missed me?”

He frowned.  “Missing someone would imply that I need them.  I’m an archangel, ______.  We are all powerful.  We do not need–”

“I missed you, too.”  You smiled before leaning in to kiss his cheek.  Then you rested your head against his chest, sighing in contentment.

You felt him kiss the top of your head and tighten his hold on you as the two of you continued to sway to the music.  


**Author's Note:**

> I am a fan of Fred Astaire. As I was writing this, I remembered reading where someone (a director, I think) made some comment about not wanting to work with him because he was balding, couldn't act, couldn't sing, and could dance--a little. So that's how he got added to the story. :)


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